


A Final Wander

by LouLa



Category: The Host - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-07
Updated: 2009-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouLa/pseuds/LouLa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Wanda, first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Final Wander

**Author's Note:**

> **All recognized characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.**
> 
> **This story has been beta'd by the ever amazing Strae.**

After the other Others showed up, we'd made a quick decision to take them back to the cave with us. They were shocked and amazed by our living facilities. They said no one was as lucky as us, and I believed it. Running water, enough space to house us all, the shelter we needed, completely off the radar – our home was the best a human could hope for.

There had been much shock, joy, worry, and fear at the new Others. How could it be? everyone asked. How couldn't it be though? If we were here, or _they_ were, of course there would be more. Uncle Jeb wasn't the only crazy genius in the world.

After much talk, a few nights, our supplies dwindled too low for comfort and the decision was made.

"We should go alone," Burns said with confidence, addressing me.

I expected Ian's reaction to that, though I didn't expect it to be quite as forceful as it was.

"I go where Wanda goes, end of story," he spit at Burns harshly.

"And I'm going," Jared piped. It wasn't out of mistrust for me, maybe not out of mistrust at all.

"And I go where Jared goes," Melanie said.

"Well, it would be easier for just the two of-"

" _No_!" Ian yelled.

"Alright, fine."

"And I'll go as well," Nate said.

Everyone nodded. It was all settled. The six of us left under night cover in our two large cargo vans and went the opposite direction of what I was used to. North.

– – –

It was our last night on this trip. We'd just finished getting ready to settle in for the night at a nearly vacant roadside hotel when things started to rile up again.

"I think that it'd be a great idea for us to play a couple," Burns said unexpectedly. He'd just taken his place on the hide-a-bed couch on the other side of the room when he decided to make another scene.

I hadn't even realized he was talking, nor addressing me, til Ian made a harsh growling sound and somehow got me behind him.

This new tiny human body was useless sometimes. I crooked my neck this way and that trying to see around Ian, as seeing over him would have been impossible unless I stood on the bed behind him. That's an idea, it'd work...

What was going on? All I could tell Ian was tensed in front of me, seemingly as deadly as a tiger ready to pounce on his prey. Who said what now?

I poked Ian in the ribs with one of my stubby fingers to get his attention, knowing that he wouldn't move for a freight train. His attention was on me enough to catch my hand and intertwine our fingers, but his lethal glare didn't move from Burns.

Burns. I knew the who now, but what? Something about a couple. Or was I making that up? No, Ian's reaction seemed about right for my guess at a recollection of what Burns had said.

I yawned with falsely loud audacity and implied, decisively, that it was time for bed. With Ian's hand already in mine, it wasn't quite as difficult as I imagined it would be to get him into bed. After a few, progressively more insistent, tugs on his arm, he followed my lead into the small, stiff hotel bed. The sheets smelled nearly sterile, unnaturally clean. Better than dingy, I suppose. Still, I longed for a slightly more earthy and normal smell. Ian contributed perfectly.

As I laid to rest on my side of the bed, Ian wordlessly wrapped his arms around my waist and completely switched our positions. He positioned me to face the door now, his back facing Burns and not even an inch of me could have been visible to anyone but Ian.

I could have been angry at his over-protectiveness. I could have felt annoyed at the fact that he still seemed to think I could love someone other than him. But I was not either. Maybe it was the overwhelmingly strong pull he seemed to have on me. His scent washed over me and I fell asleep after just a few deep, calming breaths of his heady aroma.

I heard a distant sounding murmur of "I love you," and knew it was meant for me. I tried to mimic the words as a reply, but I was too far gone. I hope he knew I felt the same. He must.

– – –

I woke unusually comfortable, warm, and stretched out. Where's Ian? It took a few moments for consciousness to unhaze my brain, and a few more moments to realize that Ian was in his normal sleeping position. Sort of.

He was in the middle of the bed, though not touching the four corners like he usually did. And I wasn't curled up against his side as I usually was. No, this morning I'd roosted right on top of Mount Ian. And boy was I comfy.

Ian was awake and seemingly happy beneath me rubbing his warm hands along the length of my short spine. His fingers delicately traced from my incision to the upper edge of my sleeping shorts. My legs were wrapped with his creating even more tingling warmness.

So comfortable. For a few moments, anyway.

After finally gaining the needed energy to look up at the face that could turn my happiness into euphoric bliss, I edged my short, small body a few inches up his contrastingly massive one to reach his lips with mine.

His blue eyes caught mine for a short moment, then darted down, before returning back to lock on mine. I was confused though by the look deep in his irises and the faint redness glowing from his cheeks. I felt my brow wrinkle then I looked down just to check for a reason behind his wandering eyes.

In my hasty expedition up his chest, I'd failed to realize that I'd half taken my shirt off in the process. My pesky human breasts were nearly exposed to his eyes. His faint glow of red was hardly noticeable compared to shade of red I turned.

Melanie's body had been so much easier. Not only had it been wonderful to be agile, tall, and fit, but the athletic build of her form had not aloud for large…protrusions. My young body didn't have as large as some, but definitely not what I'd become used to. And on top of it all, this embarrassment was difficult to deal with. I hated this gut wrenching, almost tear jerking, red faced shame that seemed to follow me around.

Yes, I was jealous of my former–Melanie's–body. How repulsively shallow and human of me. Love thyself. Love thy body.

The body that was chosen for me. And Ian did seem to like the body, did he not? Much to my humiliation – though it did confirm my assumption – his eyes waywardly casted downward for the briefest moment again.

This time he seemed to be over the embarrassment, though he still felt bad. He breathed a quiet apology and I rebelled against my red face to kiss his soft, full lips.

The fiery fire that didn't burn with explosively catastrophic results kicked on like a furnace in my gut. Soft, gentle, smoldering heat rolled inside my belly, making me shiver with a confused longing.

This body was virginal. And of course, I, Wanderer, was virginal, despite the many replays Melanie had given me of her experiences. Fear, longing, desire, anxiety, inevitability, want. Need.

"Agh, umm."

"Shh."

"Ouch, Mel, watch-"

"Shhhut up," Melanie whispered harshly at Jared.

Too late. Thanks anyway, Mel. A crowded hotel room was hardly the place to lose one's virginity anyway. A crowded cave wasn't much better, I suppose.

 _Dread_.

 _Need_.

Ian's long stopped hands started moving again. He tried to gently work my shirt back into place, fearing for my modesty. Or maybe that was my fear for modesty that I still didn't understand and he was just covering what he wanted no one else to see.

I hid my red face in his neck and his chest shook with gentle whispers of laughter. I unthinkingly bit down on his shoulder as punishment for laughing at me. He hissed softly into my ear and his hands moved to my slight hips, drawing my body closer to his.

What were these feelings? They were strong and tormenting. My mind construed up interestingly, and uncharacteristically, violent images of Ian in all his naked glory.

I frightened myself with the thoughts that seemed to come from no where at all. Certainly I, Wandering Wanda, couldn't have thought those things. Terror overtook me and I began searching every depth of my being for someone other than myself.

I came back empty handed. There was only Pet's memories and my own, still nothing of before Pet.

"Wanda?" Came Ian's gentle, loving voice, a hint of worry leaking through.

"Yes?" I asked back, trying to rid myself of all of my earlier musings before meeting his probing gaze.

But he knew me, too well. Ian saw through every lie I didn't tell. For some reason, that was funny. I giggled. Which made Ian smile. Which made me smile. And the day went on as if I hadn't had horrifying images of Ian naked on the dirty cave floor passing through my brain.

I shuddered at the recall of the images, but surprisingly not out of fear.

Thankfully Ian was driving, unable to notice my thrilling shiver. Melanie, sitting close by my right side, noticed though. She just smiled knowingly.

She couldn't possibly…no. I tried to move a little to ease my cramped muscles, but I had no such luck. The back of this van was packed and Melanie and I were crammed back here. Jared had offered to take my place, but there was no way he'd fit back here and more than two sitting up front would have drawn unnecessary attention to us. Melanie had to be way more uncomfortable than me, though she looked perfectly at ease. At least this was the home stretch.

Ian obeyed all traffic laws religiously and there was no chance of us being pulled over, but _just in case_ , I was ready to fling myself into the driver's seat and Ian, being only slightly smaller than Jared would have to squish himself between Jared and I and look dead to the world.

We had the plan all set. I, Humming to the Moon, and my brothers, Glass Eyes and Rick – Jared isn't the most creative, I tell ya! – were planning a cross country trip to paint and photograph this great World's beauty. They were both very, very asleep, of course, and Melanie didn't exist. Or if she did, she was Dragon Tails – she tried to explain that idea once…something about a show and Jamie when he was young.

No Seeker's, just supplies and a safe trip home.

As always, Jamie was utterly conflicted when he spotted Mel and I. He'd dart right towards Melanie, then left towards me, then back again, unable to decide who to embrace first. We had a system down now, the three person hug. Realistically, it was more of a five person hug because technically Ian was involved by touching me and Jared, Melanie.

"Guess what, guess what?" He nearly shouted excitedly.

"What?" all of us asked in unison, wondering what could possibly have happened this time we were absent.

"Jodie. Jodie's back. Sunny found her and agreed to being sent to the Dolphins. Kyle has Jodie."

This was great news. Of course, Sunny would be missed greatly, terribly so. We all had come to love Sunny in these weeks. She brought out the most respectable, unbelievable side of Kyle. But this was great news. Hope. If Sunny could find Jodie, maybe all of them had a chance!

But no. Of course not. We'd learned that already. Sunny was a special, a very special, case. The hosts who had been "infected" – as Aaron called it – for too long, without any resistance, were so far unattainable. We had only brought one more host here since Jodi. He was lost. A very sad day for everyone.

His soul had been successfully removed, but there was no response from the host. Reinserting the soul was not an option. This soul would most likely destroy its host immediately upon discovering our plan. It wouldn't stop to listen. The host was terminated in the most humane way possible by Doc before he could suffer unnecessarily from starvation for too long.

Everyone willingly involved was trying to find a plan, a way, to successfully brings the hosts back to human life. So far, we weren't having a whole lot of luck.

After unloading all of the new supplies, breakfast was set. We'd made it in just before dawn, had the trucks placed and everyone and thing back into the secure darkness before the sun rose.

I was exhausted. These raids seemed to have that affect on me. Ian was his normal, upbeat self but he looked tired after closer inspection.

With the eight Others, plus our hosts, we were even more crowded than usual. The eatery was packed. I wasn't exactly hungry, but I dished out for myself nonetheless. We had a lot of milk to get used up today. Milk was almost always the first to spoil. I'd brought nearly a gallon for everyone. Milk was a favorite.

I'd grabbed a few packaged chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of still cold milk. I didn't pay attention to what Ian had, I was too busy laughing at Jamie. I think he grabbed one of everything, including a full, unopened box of cereal.

I'd wondered why he kept opening and closing his mouth as if he were saying something. It wasn't until he was close enough for me to hear him that I realized he was muttering, "Jackpot," to himself.

Only Kyle could outdo Jamie. Kyle carried so much on top of two boxes of cereal that I doubted I'd have been able to carry the load myself. I couldn't carry much these days though.

"You look tired, sweetie."

I followed the sound of the familiar voice and found him closer than I expected. I must have been really out of it if I hadn't even noticed him move my legs into his lap.

"Guess I am," I answered.

He gave the bottom cuff of my pressed jeans a gentle tug and said, "Let's go to bed, I'm tired too."

I smiled gratefully at him. Jamie kept his cereal box securely under his arm as I leaned in to kiss his cheek. He mumbled a "sleep well" through a too large mouthful of a very sweet smelling cereal. I didn't have the energy to give many others a proper goodnight.

I suspect Ian carried me the rest of the way to bed because I don't remember taking myself there.

I woke up oddly warm and comfortable again. Gentle fingers traced my spine as they had in the motel. Everything was a couple levels better here. This is home.

"Ian," I breathed.

"Hmm," he hummed as a reply.

I hadn't been looking for a response really. I just wanted to say his name. I gave a content sigh and nuzzled my face into his warm, inviting chest.

"I love you," I told him.

"I love you too, beautiful Wanderer."

I smiled against his soft shirt then breathed in a deep breath. My head swam. I wasn't sure if I would ever be used to this. These strong, uncontrollable human emotions were always throwing me a loop.

I suddenly became aware of the fact that I felt very exposed. I didn't remember much from before I fell asleep apparently.

"I'm not wearing pants?" It came out as a question. I looked up to see Ian's face.

"You lost them a while ago," he said, his smile and tone playful.

"Was that my doing or your own?"

His lips twitched in an amused way. "They didn't look very comfortable."

"You're not wearing pants either," I realized, and said out loud.

"Mine weren't comfortable either."

Was this his way of saying he was ready? He didn't want to wait any longer. Would it be now then? Finally. Though hopefully not final, as in the end of something. But what if it was? Humans always said sex ruins everything, I'd heard that somewhere, through Melanie. Ian was ready to have sex.

"No," he said then, in a surprise tone. He sucked in a sharp breath and quickly sat up onto his elbows. "Wanda, I didn't mean it to mean anything. Oh Wanda, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I wasn't thinking."

As always, Ian knew exactly what I was thinking. I didn't care that I still misinterpreted him, humans would probably never make sense to me. So I decided just to let the nonsense take over me.

My body seemed to act on instinct as I told it, it would be having sex soon. Eager excitement rolled through me, adrenaline mixed with pure desire. Nervousness was there too, I chose to ignore that as well as the doubt, the worry, the embarrassment.

 _Wanda and Ian_. _Sex_. My only thoughts.

My body gave a great lurch, spreading my legs over Ian taut stomach and landing my knees onto the bed on either side of him. My hands weren't gentle as my fingers knotted into his hair and my lips crashed into his. My eyes were closed but I could feel the shock in his lips. I'd surprised him with my attack.

He didn't seem to be resisting me, but Ian was too kind to push me away. What if he really didn't want to do this at all? Arousal for the human men was easy to confirm though.

I tried to move my body downwards, to make my confirmation, but I didn't want to stop kissing him. I kept my fingers tight in his hair to tow him with me as I scooted down his stomach. As my thighs found his hips, I sat myself down gently on top of him and was quite happy to discover what was most certainly the penis of an aroused male.

As I settled myself on him, moving around a bit, he made a soft groaning noise and his hands clung to my hips the same needy way my hands pulled at his hair. He pushed and pulled at my hips as he kissed me, just as I tugged at his soft hair. I found that I, myself was making these soft groans. I realized this was a pleasurable thing.

All too quickly, it seemed it was the end. His hands dropped my hips like they were burning him and he pulled his lips from mine, leaving my mouth agape without warning.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he panted. "Wanda, you don't have to do this."

I groaned in a pained way. I did have to do this. My body couldn't live without it now. My hands left his hair and started clawing at his shirt. So weak these thin, girlish fingers were.

"Ian, please," I begged, not even sure what I was looking for but knowing that I needed it, and soon. Ian had to know.

The shirt was finally out of the way and my hands and lips went greedily for the newly exposed skin. So soft, so much lighter than the other tanned and olive skinned humans. I looked up into his blue eyes, seeking comfort from the overwhelming feelings I was letting take me over. I found no comfort. His eyes seemed to relay exactly what I felt.

"Ian," I begged again. I needed him, now more than ever, and in every way.

His hands came to my sides and started pushing my shirt upwards. His eyes didn't leave mine and he didn't take it off. He was questioning me. I didn't answer. My fingers grabbed the light colored polo and tore it off, tossing it into the growing pile a few feet away. Still his eyes didn't leave mine.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice very serious, even with the husky tone it carried.

"Yes," I panted, unable to catch a steady breath.

My fingers reached behind me for the clasp on this contraption known as a bra. Evil thing, I swear it. Melanie hadn't minded going without one, this body seemed to need one. Size "C" the bra said, and I hoped they didn't get bigger. I was always happy to be free of the contraption, I flung it to the side with the rest.

Ian's eyes couldn't seem to stay with mine in that moment. The sound he made was needy as he stared at the flesh of my chest. His hands came eagerly away from my sides, up my ribs, and to the mounds of soft skin. I didn't expect my reaction to him touching me there to be so strong.

Without being asked to, my head rolled back and my lips parted in a moan. My hips rocked down against the large bulge I could feel in his under shorts and seemed to be seeking out stimulation.

With my head rolled back, I took notice of the sky above through the cracks in the ceiling. I thought of the others for the first time. The sky was black, it was night time now, the stars were shining brightly against the black behind them. It must be very late, the darkest part of the night. Everyone would be asleep.

Warm wetness around the tightened peak of my left breast surprised me and drew me back to Ian. I looked down to see his lips wrapped lightly around the nipple, his hands kneading softly against the skin of my breasts.

My hips seemed to have picked up a rhythmic rocking motion now, and because it felt so instinctual to me, I let them continue. It felt very, _very_ , very nice. Noises came from me at regular intervals now too, purring sounds, hums, moans, gasps. Ian's teeth and lips and tongue continued to taste at my skin and I let him do as he pleased. He made sounds of his own, very interesting sounds I'd never heard him make before. They made me happy and somehow brought even more aching need to my body.

His head rolled back with mine as I dug my nails into his shoulder, feeling a suddenly hot stake start prodding at my stomach. A white hot heat shot through my body and my legs quivered.

"Wanda," he panted breathily, "I can't, we don't." I heard him swallow and take a deep breath while I kept rocking against him, the aching now so unbearably overwhelming I thought I might scream. "We can stop," he said finally.

"No, please don't. I don't think we should." That's what my body said, despite the aching.

"Okay." He seemed to be struggling again. I looked down at him, needing to see the reassurance in his eyes. His eyes were pleading, I'd never seen the look there before. He needed this unknown as much as I did.

"Ian, I can't take it anymore, please."

"Baby, it could hurt," he told me, surprisingly sober again.

I shook my head. "No. Please."

"This is going to look bad," he muttered.

Somehow, this stopped my rocking. I froze. "What?"

He brow creased and he leaned towards the edge of the bed. "It's going to look like I've been waiting or something. Really, Wanda, we don't have to do this."

I stiffened. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he didn't want this at all. Something cold splashed onto my aching gut, making it tighten and sending stinging tears to my eyes. I didn't recognize this pain. This foreign emotion wasn't like any other. It was painful in its own separate way. I placed a name to it: Rejection.

He felt it, he felt my emotion nearly as quickly as it came. "I want to," he said, rushing the words out. "I want to so bad. It's wrong of me to want this. I know you don't naturally want this, Wanda, this isn't your… You don't desire this."

I shook my head. He was wrong. "I do," I pleaded. My body wanted this, this was a need for me now.

"This must be so hard for you. It isn't natural for you. I'm so sorry. You try so hard. I won't make you do this. You know I hate it how you please everyone before yourself. I can't let you do this for me."

"Ian O'Shea," I said firmly. His lips came together in a tight line quickly, as if on instinct to hearing his full name. "The emotions come with the body, and this is started now and it can't be stopped. You…must…know how it feels. It _is_ overwhelming, but it's here now and I don't know how to make it go away. This…this human arousal is so…difficult. Everything human is difficult, Ian, but you must know how to take care of it."

I don't think I could describe it better, or ask in any other way.

"Oh," he replied in a surprise tone. I watched his eyes travel down my body to where I was still sitting on his arousal, the thin fabric of our underwear the only thing keeping us apart. "Oh," he said again, sounding even more surprised than before.

I followed his line of sight. His arousal was there, hidden in his dark colored underwear, straining against it, and mine was there too, just visible in the small amount of light from the stars and the moon. The light colored panties shown darker where my arousal had rubbed into the material.

He stared a few deep breaths longer, then cleared his throat and leaned toward the edge of the bed again. "Like I was going to say earlier, these are only here because of the chance that this could have happened. I wasn't counting on it, I don't expect it, even now. You have a choice, Wanda, I'm with you no matter what you decide."

He leaned back up with a square, plastic package in his fingers. Birth control; a condom.

He repeated himself. "No matter what, I _don't_ care. This is your choice and I'm here and I love you for eternity without this silly human thing."

I scoffed. "Silly. Hardly the word I'd use."

"What word would you use?"

I thought. "Complicated. Intense. Overwhelming. Ian, stop stalling please."

His serious eyes smiled at me a little. "I'm afraid."

The honesty in his voice scared me. Why was he afraid? I placed my palm against his cheek and he leaned into it. "Why?"

"I don't want to lose you, Wanda."

"I wasn't aware that humans were a species who killed after mating."

He scoffed this time. "That's not funny, Wanda. You know that's not what I mean."

I nodded. "Yeah. Besides, I think it's usually the female who kills the male after intercourse."

His lips twitched. I took a deep breath and rushed the words out before he could say anything else. "I love you, Ian, and I wish you'd stop worrying. I can't and won't ever leave you. You're my soul mate." I frowned at the human term that truly didn't fit our bond.

He smiled though, understanding what I'd meant. In an act of bravery, I snatched the condom from his hands and tore the package open. I found the desired contents and grabbed it gingerly between two fingers. That was stupid of me. What did I do now?

"Okay, that was impulsive. I have no idea what to do with it. You take it," I said, offering the circular object to him.

"Don't take this so lightly, Wanda, it's very serious."

"I know, Ian, and I'm not taking it lightly. I'm seriously starting to fear for my life. The self-destruction timer is going to start countdown soon. Please just listen to me. I need you, Ian, my body and I need you. I'm sure, don't ask again. I understand how it all works. Just please, if you aren't wanting this, tell me."

"Okay," he answered. I didn't know just what that meant so every feeling I'd ever felt seemed to settle into my stomach.

He could be agreeing: joy, bliss, happiness. He could be declining: sadness, rejection, disappointment, longing. He could still be thinking: impatience, need.

His hands lightly gripped my hips and he easily picked me up off of him, setting me gently on the mattress by his side. Fresh, burning, salty tears sprung to my eyes and I hated the pain of it. Of course I understood his decision, I didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Lay back sweetie," he murmured, swiveling his upper body towards me.

I silently obeyed him, wishing my tears away. I didn't want him to feel badly. He placed pillows behind my head making sure they were just right.

"You don't have to be scared of that, it's not going to bite you," he said, eying the condom still in my fingers, held there like it might be some dangerous thing. "I suppose I can take it now though, huh?"

He heaved a great big breath in and held it. His fingers pulled the latex ring from my fingers and he stood up on the bed. "I guess this is it. I feel like, it's kind of, should I?" He wasn't making any sense to me at all. He heaved another breath, then let it out slowly. "Okay. You're so brave." His thumbs hooked under the waistband of his underwear and he pushed them down to his knees.

I don't know, or care, where the underwear went after that because suddenly everything was clicking into place. And Ian, my perfect, sweet Ian, was naked before me. I stared at the unmentionable treasure of Ian's pants and couldn't blink out of both shock and amazement.

It stood like the rest of Ian did, proud and strong. It was straight and quite big looking. I hate that my mind did it, but it compared Ian naked to Melanie's memories of Jared naked. I love Ian, and my mind didn't linger on the thoughts of Jared.

Ian was my choice, not that there'd been one, but he would always be my choice.

Ian's hand moved and slid the shiny, clear ring onto his penis, turning it into an effective tube. I stared in a way that was probably considered rude. I memorized every line, curve, freckle, and dimple on his newly exposed body.

"You're as red as a ripe tomato," he chuckled as he knelt down at my side.

"That's the internal explosion happening. I didn't even hear the self-destruction timer start its countdown," I mumbled halfheartedly.

He chuckled then met my eyes in a serious way. "You really feel it too?"

I didn't have to really know what he was talking about, to know what he was talking about. "Without a doubt."

His eyes stayed on mine and ever so gently, one of his hands found my right leg. His palm was slightly rough feeling against the smoothness of my thigh, but I liked it. I felt my heart rate accelerate and my chest tightened with each breath coming louder through my parted lips. My legs spread wider on their own accord and my hips seemed to rock towards his slow moving hand.

I absolutely _couldn't_ take it anymore. "Ian, now I know you're trying to kill me. Just put me out of my misery already!"

His hand skipped about a half a foot of thigh that was left for him to travel. His hand moved straight for the junction between my thighs and he pushed against the wet fabric there. I cried out desperately. I needed more. My thighs clamped down on his arm, not letting him move.

"That isn't it," I whined.

His hands moved quickly. The one between my legs disappeared and I whimpered pitifully. Both of his hands came to the fabric at my hips and he started pulling at it. My underwear were there one second and gone the next.

His hands came to my knees and softly encouraged me to part them. The way my legs spread, you'd think he was Superman using his super strength. I couldn't even feel shame at the moment.

He softly caressed the outside of my legs as he centered himself between my quivering thighs.

"Ian, please, hurry," I begged, feeling closer and closer to exploding every second.

"I'll be gentle," he promised. "I'll do everything I can to make this not hurt for you. Tell me if it's too much and we'll stop right away."

I couldn't reply with more than a whimper. Then I felt him there, gently, carefully pressing against me. Instinct, the body, it all took over. My hips lurched and I felt a tearing sensation that stung sharply. I threw my head to the side and bit a pillow, muffling a scream. Tears rolled from my eyes and the pain throbbed sharply from the inside with each beat of my heart.

"Oh honey. Oh, Wanda, sweetie. I'm so sorry." He leaned over me, choking out continuous apologies.

His body was shaking above me, his lips tight as he kissed my cheek, neck, and forehead repeatedly. I was thrilled that as sudden as the pain was, it seemed to lessen just as quickly. Each throb grew more dull until the throbs were back to just an ache and not a stab.

My hips rocked and I whimpered, then panted as I felt him move inside of me. My head flew forward into his shoulder with a breathy gasp followed by a moan at the feeling of him. His body was frozen. I laid back down into the pillow and whimpered again. I couldn't stop the movement in my hips now, rolling this way and wiggling that way.

I felt stretched, full, whole. Almost. I moved my legs and hooked them over Ian's hip bones. I hoped my legs would encourage the movement I so seemed to need. My hands went to his shoulder blades and as I felt him slide just a bit further into me, I dug my nails into him and let out a loud moan.

If this wasn't it–what I was looking for–there was no hope for me. Nothing had felt so perfectly right before this. We belonged together this way.

"You're alright?" he asked stiffly.

"Uhhhn, yes," I half moaned.

"Okay."

Suddenly, stars were in our bedroom. He moved outwards before slowly back in, pushing himself into me deeper. I sought his lips out, knowing I'd wake everyone up now if I didn't have something covering my mouth. Out, back in, deeper. Each time, my throat swelled with a moan. Ian grunted and groaned as he moved inside of me, I kept gasping.

I couldn't breathe. "Ian," I panted. "Ian, I can't breathe," I told him.

Everything felt tight and hot. It was almost as if I were too alive. I tingled and couldn't believe how intense the feelings were in my body. Every nerve ending was responsive to his movements. As he pressed in, he met a depth of my body that I knew couldn't be reached any other way. As he moved out, my body reacted to his movement, yearning to feel him filling me again, but enjoying the feeling of him moving within me.

My breath somehow grew shorter as I neared this…this coming death. "Ian, can't," I wheezed.

He grunted against my neck then spoke in a nearly unrecognizably deep, husky voice. "This is what you need, Wanda. Feel it. Let it go. Take it, Wanderer."

I felt one of his hand brush over my stomach and touch me in a place that couldn't be denied. I died.

My spine arched up with a white hot jolt of fiery electricity. Every fiber of my being exploded and I saw black, but with the black was Ian's face. This death was the only one I ever wanted. So much intensity and so much pleasure. Only Ian.

Oh….

Oh. Slow Wanda took this long to figure out what we were waiting for and then even longer to figure out what it was. Melanie never remembered this. This was the birth of death. A hot shower of ice water. So much pleasure that it hurt.

Humans and their complex contradictions. No wonder orgasms were so debated. They were indescribable and you only knew one once you've had one.

The first thing to register to me again was loud moans of, "Ian, Ian, Ian," coming from my mouth.

"Wanderer," he grunted back deeply.

His body seemed to tense above me and I felt the movement inside me change. He seemed to be going deeper somehow, with more strength in his thrusts, and even more precision in his movements. His breaths came short now and I understood.

Oh, Ian deserved this so much. The euphoria. Too bad it was only him that was doing anything. I didn't feel like a contributor to his joy at all. With one final, deep thrust and a deeper grunt, his mouth attacked my throat and he cried loudly against my skin, his body jerking and spasming.

Did I look like this? Surely not. This was beautiful. Ian was bowed over me in a primal way that looked so unbelievably masculine and sexy, it couldn't be described. His naked butt was visible and I stared, not able to comprehend how I'd missed memorizing it. His clothes didn't compliment his butt at all, I'd never noticed how completely perfect it was. His back, his legs, his chest, his arms, his hair, those eyes. Ian was my perfect man.

His arms gave out as his body finished shuddering. Only part of his weight pressed into me as he collapsed; his bent arms held most of his weight. His breathing was deep and labored, matching mine. Chest to chest, our bodies still as one, I'd never felt more loved in my life.

"I love you, Ian O'Shea."

"I love you, Wanderer. Always."


End file.
